Suddenly, a car appeared in the opposite direction. Ari’s father, Aarne, braked as hard as he could but was unable to prevent a head-on collision.

Aarne, a farmer, suffered multiple injuries and died instantly. Miraculously, Vatanen survived relatively unscathed, as did the other family members in the car – his mother Hertta, brother and two sisters.

The accident happened near Vatanen’s home town of Tuupovaara in eastern Finland in 1960 but has left an indelible mark on him.

“To this day, I can still see my dad slumped over the steering wheel with someone saying: ‘he’s unconscious’,” the MEP recalls.

“Seat belts had been fitted in the car the day before it happened but my father, not being used to such a novelty, hadn’t used them. The tragic irony of it all is that the funeral we were travelling to had actually been held the previous day. My mother had got the date wrong.”

The experience of losing his father in such dreadful circumstances was to form the basis of Vatanen’s strong religious beliefs in later life.

It also helped him through what was to be a highly successful rallying career and now, he hopes, will guide him through what is still a fledgling political career.

“It taught me above all that life is a gift but one that is very fragile. On that afternoon I learned something that perhaps all politicians should learn: I realised just how small we are despite the illusion of power.”

Notwithstanding the trauma of witnessing his father’s death, just four years later Ari was himself behind the wheel of his mother’s 1,000cc car, driving it on private roads near their home.

He recalls: “She was very worried and said: ‘Isn’t one death in the family enough?'”

But the 12-year-old Ari had been bitten by the motorsport bug and was taking the first steps on the road that was to eventually earn him the nickname, The Flying Finn.

“That summer, I remember a car rally event was held in our little village for the first time. I’d never seen anything like it and was utterly captivated.”

He started his rapid rise through the motorsport ranks in 1971. After gaining a considerable reputation – often for his ability to wreck more than an average amount of cars – he was signed by Ford in 1976 and in the same year won the British Championship.

Within five years he was the world champion, assuring himself a place among the true greats of his sport.

His aggressive driving style made him a firm favourite with fans who, even today, regard him as one of the most naturally talented drivers.

Vatanen has always had a reputation for pushing things to the limit, having had many close scrapes. But that limit was pushed once too often when he was involved in a near fatal accident in the 1985 Argentine Rally.

“For a time I didn’t really appreciate how close to death I had come,” he recalls. “I just don’t know how to thank God enough. It is as if I had been reborn into a new life,” says Vatanen, a devout member of the Lutheran Church.

His slow and painful recovery from multiple injuries (he was in hospital for 12 weeks, was sidelined for 18 months and still walks with a slight limp) was followed by a battle against severe depression.

Vatanen became obsessed by the idea that he may have contracted AIDS from a blood transfusion following the Argentinian crash. He lost a lot of weight and other symptoms convinced him he had the killer disease.

In his autobiography, Every Second Counts, he recalls an agonising wait for the result of blood tests to establish if he was HIV positive: “They took over a week to arrive and it was one of the longest weeks of my life.”

To his relief, he was given the all-clear and made a successful comeback, winning the Paris-Dakar Rally in 1987. He also made headlines the following year when his car was stolen whilst in the lead of the same rally.

As a glittering sporting career neared its end, Vatanen started looking to kick-start the next phase of his life.

“I considered the business world but decided I wasn’t a good enough businessman. Farming was in the family but I needed something more than that.”

Despite a total lack of experience in national politics, he found himself shortlisted – and elected – in the 1999 elections to the European Parliament.

A proud European (“I was born in Finland, work in Brussels and live in Monaco and Provence, where I have a farm”), he had found the challenge he sought.

The fact that he’d used his renowned networking skills (he’s said to be a good friend of French President Jacques Chirac) to win elected office, despite a negligible political background, did not go unnoticed.

“Traditional politics had never appealed to me but I’m something of an idealist and am one of those people who still think that, as a politician, you can help make the world a better place. Having travelled the world and seen so much injustice I just had to try and do something about it.”

He would be the first to admit that, since his election – save for his not-very-sexy efforts to remove tax barriers for car imports into Finland – he is yet to make the impact he did during his 23-year rallying career.

Indeed, there are some who say he took a decidedly wrong turn in choosing politics after his illustrious life behind the wheel.

One MEP says: “He may have been a great rally driver but the jury is still very much out on him as a politician.”

On a similar theme, fellow Finnish MEP Piia-Noora Kauppi said: “Ari doesn’t have a clear political programme. You could say he’s still looking for his political ideas.

“His great strength is that he’s very friendly and likeable. He’s what I call an old-fashioned gentleman. He never forgets personal details about someone and is the type who would notice if you’d changed your hairstyle. She adds: “He’s very religious and an extrovert, quite unusual for a Scandinavian. With his strong Christian beliefs, he reminds you of a missionary in Africa.

“Generally, he is well liked back home, especially in the rural areas, but there are some who simply don’t think he’s very competent as a politician.

“There are two different types of MEP: there are those who are good legislators and make good committee chairmen – it’s fair to say Ari isn’t one of them. Then there are members who are good at lobbying and networking. That’s Ari.”

Jori Aruonen, of the Finnish National Coalition Party, who helped propel Vatanen into his current job, says it would be wrong to underestimate him. He says: “It could be that some people are jealous of Ari because he hasn’t come from national politics.”

What may be perceived by some as a lack of focus is, in fact, for Vatanen, a personal strength.

A confirmed European federalist, he says: “It’s true, I don’t have a political programme as such but the world is full of political programmes. Who needs another one?

“I want to carry on beyond 2004 but, for now, I am happy to keep a low profile and work behind the scenes.”

He’s a member of the regional policy committee – an area he has a keen understanding of with his farming background. In his rally-driving heyday, Vatanen, who is still stopped in the streets back home by autograph hunters, was sponsored by a Finnish dairy company and was often pictured with a glass of milk in his hand.

The clean-cut look fitted well with the image of the God-fearing Finn. But there is more to Vatanen than meets the eye. For a start, contrary to what some fellow MEPs think, he does not only drink milk.

Also, there can’t be many members who have featured on a pop star’s album but one track on Chris Rea’s Auberge CD is named after Vatanen’s autobiography. The pair have been friends since the days in the early 1980s when they shared a house in the UK.

If Vatanen has one regret, it is that his family – he has four children, Kim, 29, Ria, 22, Tua, 20, and 11-year-old Max – had to take a back seat during his rallying years.

He admits his life in the fast lane took its toll on his wife, Rita (they were married in 1979). After one accident too many, she snapped at him: “You are never here, the children have no father and I have no husband.”

She had lost her first husband in a plane accident and told Ari: “If a second husband is brought home to me in a coffin I couldn’t stand it.”

Looking back, Vatanen, now aged 50, says: “My sport dominated my life. It was all-consuming and everything else was secondary. One of my faults is that I can be very selfish. But my family is the biggest treasure I have been given and Rita reminds me of the sanctity of marriage.”

Pausing for a moment, he adds: “It brings far greater rewards than the mere satisfying of one’s passing desires.”